i don't know
                                                      glea­ming like an apology
what i want
                                                      ­your scraped pomegranate summerteeth
these winter days, i used to
                                                      a pointillist sunset,
wish i could inhale
                                                      d­on't tell me that muscle
the wide wide world
                                                      is made whole by breaking
just to breath it out
                                                      the thready beat made stronger
into your mouth, once,
                                                      if ravaged, then repaired.
i never really knew
                                                      ­could we salvage joy from each day loosening
strength
                                                      our ravenous hold on the world?
just that i wanted to be strong
                                                     ­ atlas was no gardener
for a nebulous reason i cannot
remember
                                            ­          to hold up is not to tend.
i'm leaving for
                                                      wher­e could it be written,
a very long time,
                                                      why would anyone say, why would
but you have to go
away
                                                      ­a poet teach the heart survives by breaking?
to come
back.
                                                     ­ *that in black ink my love may still shine bright